Oba Shinzo, an office worker, lived on the outskirts of Tokyo andcommuted to his office in the Kyobashi district; every morning without fail he wouldwalk briskly the more than a mile to the station, saying that it was idealexercise. Of a gentle disposition, he was well liked at the office.
His family consisted of his old mother, who was sixty-seven or eightand exceedingly hearty, his wife of twenty-nine, his wife’s younger sisterOkiyo, his seven-year-old daughter Rei, and a maid called Otoku who had beenwith them five or six years―a total of six persons, himself included.
His wife, who was sickly, took little hand in domestic affairs.Household matters were mostly in the charge of Okiyo and Otoku, helped by his busyold mother. The authority of the maid Otoku was especially strong; her age wasonly twenty-three, but she had announced her resolve to serve the family all herlife, and sometimes even the old mother had to give way to her. From time to time,Okiyo would complain that Otoku liked her own way too much, but she was always defeatedin the end by Otoku’s earnest concern for the family’s best interests.
On the other side of a hedge stood a small building, little betterthan a shed. Here lived a gardener and his wife. The husband was sometwenty-seven or twenty-eight, his wife around the same age as Otoku. The twowomen, next-door neighbors, were a good match for each other in gossiping.
When the gardener and his wife first moved in, they had askedpermission to draw water from the Oba’s well, having none of their own. The Oba’s,thinking it a reasonable enough request, agreed. Another two months or sopassed, and they came again to ask if they could make a gap of about three feetin the hedge, so that they would not have to go round via the gate every time.This aroused considerable objections among the Oba’s. Otoku in particularinsisted that it would amount to making a way in for burglars. But thanks tothe perennial good-nature of Shinzo, the master of the house, permission wasgiven in the end, on condition that a stout wooden gate should be made and keptstrictly closed. The gardener, however, cut some green bamboo from a nearbythicket and made a rough-and-ready gate of bamboo interspersed with fronds ofcryptomeria.
“Do you call this a gate?”said Otoku in a loud voice when she saw it. “Where’s the latch? You might just as well nothave a gate at all.”
Ogen, the gardener’s wife, overheard her as she was washing out the rice-potat the well.
“It’s good enough,”she said. “How can you expect us to make the proper kind of gate like a carpenter?”
“Then why don’t you get a carpenter to make it?”asked Otoku, incensed.She was perfectly aware how poor the gardener and his wife were.
“I would, too, if it was worth his while!”
“He’ll come if you ask him, “said Otoku, unable to resist another dig.
Ogen, who hated to get the worst of things, looked put out at this,but knowing the power that Otoku wielded in the Oba household, prudently keptherself in check.
“Come now, let’s leave it at that, ” she said in a semi-concilatory tone. “I shall be almost the only one to use it, soit’s up to me to see it’s kept shut. Any real burglar could get over the hedgeor the front gate at any rate, so a gate like this doesn’t really make anydifference.”
“I suppose not,”said Otoku. “So there’ll be no need to worry if only you keep it strictly shut. Iexpect you know, though―there are lots of sneak-thieves and dishonest garbage collectors hangingabout this district, and you need to be on your guard all the time. You knowthe place belonging to that military man Kawai next to the new baker’s?
They say somebody the other day lifted a bigcopper bowl they’d only just bought.”
“Really? How?” said Ogen, pausing in the act of drawing water and turning to lookat Otoku
“It was out by the well, and they took it thevery moment the maid went out to the back to hang up some washing. The gate wasslightly open, they say, so it goes to show.”
“Well! You can’t be too careful, can you? Don’tworry, I’ll watch out. But you take care too―“don’t leave anything likely to be stolen lying around outside, evenfor a moment.”
“I normally don’t do that kind of thing; but evenso, it slips one’s mind sometimes, doesn’t it? You must be careful with garbagecollectors and so on, too. To get through the gate they have to pass right byyour house.”
“Of course I’ll be careful. Even a piece of firewoodor charcoal is too valuable to have stolen.”
“It certainly is. Talking of charcoal, by the way,isn’t it terribly dear lately? Look―that’s top quality hard charcoal at eighty-five sen a bale.” Shepointed to one of the bales lined up under the eaves between the well and thekitchen door. “I wonder howmuch it contains? I’m sure it work out at so many sen a piece. It’s likecooking with money, I can tell you. Both soft and hard charcoal are just abouttwice what they cost last year. It’s too bad, really. ” She sighed.
“And you need a lot in your family, too,because there are so many of you. There’s just the two of us, so we get by onvery little. Even so, I have to buy three to five sen‘s worth loose almost every day. It’s toobad.”
“It must be difficult, ” said Otokusympathetically.
Launched on the new topic of charcoal, the two of them dropped thequestion of the gate and within an absurdly short time were back on their old neighborlyterms, gossiping twenty to the dozen.
It was the end of November, when days were at their shortest, and itwas already getting dark when Shinzo, the head of the family, came back fromthe office. Hearing that the gate was finished, he slipped on a pair of woodenclogs and came round to the garden by the kitchen, still in his office clothes.For a while he just stood looking at the gate, smiling.
“Quite a gate, isn’t it, sir? ” said Otoku athis side.
“Did the gardener make this? “
“Yes, sir. “
“It’s a very odd gate, but it’s a good job fora gardener. ” He laid a hand on it, and shook it. “Seems stronger than itlooks. Well, this’ll do. It’s better than nothing, I suppose. I’ll have the carpentercome sometime to make a proper one. A wooden gate’s a wooden gate, even whenits bamboo. ” And he went off laughing into the house.
Ogen heard this from inside her own house.
“He’s real easy to get on with, the master is,”she thought, giggling to herself. “There aren’t many people as kind as he is, for a start. The wife’s nicetoo, and the old lady is a bit of a fuss, but she’s awfully good at heart.Okiyo’s a bit awkward at times, ―you expect it with someone who’s been married and come home again―but she’s a kind nature. “
She was going on in this fashion when the recollection of Otoku’ssarcasm that day brought her up short.
“If I wasn’t under an obligation to thefamily, I’d never stand for any her talk. But these country misses, they getbig ideas if people treat them at all well. And look what happens, the impudentlittle hussy! ” she remembered Otoku’s remark.
“’Quite a gate, sir,’ she says! I suppose shemeant to find fault, but the master, thank heaven, wasn’t having any of it.That showed her, that did!”
“But she’s got her points, one must admit, “shewent on, changed her tack again. “Her looks aren’t bad, and she’d still beyoung enough to find plenty of husbands, if she was like me. But then she’s tookeen on serving the family. And she’s so awfully honest that the Oba’s cantrust her with anything…”
Thinking on these lines, Ogen lit the lamp and was going toreplenish the brazier when she found there was not a single piece of charcoalleft. Tutting to herself, she tested the battered old kettle with her hand.Fortunately, it was still warm. “I hope he comes back while the water’s still hot. But unless hebrings back an advance today we shan’t have any fire tonight or tomorrow. I canmanage a fire by collecting leaves, but there’s no rice for tomorrow either! “
This time, instead of tutting, she let out a feeble sigh. Sittingdejectedly in the dim light of the lamp, with her untidy hair and her pallidface, she was a very pathetic sight at that moment.
She was still sitting there when her husband Isokichi came dawdlingback. Without preliminaries, Ogen asked him about the advance. Silently, hetook a purse out of his apron and handed it to her. She inspected the contents.
“Only two yen? “
“Yes. “
“What’s the good of two yen? If you were gettingan advance at any rate, you might just as well have got five yen. “
“I can’t help it if they won’t let me have it.”
“Yes, but I’m sure even the boss would let youhave five yen if you asked right. Look here. ” She showed him the emptycharcoal box. “We’re out of charcoaltoo. If I buy rice tonight there won’t be much money left. “
Isokichi, who had been puffing silently at his pipe, banged out theash. He drew the small table toward him, helped himself to rice, and beganeating. This consisted of pouring plain hot water onto the rice and downing themixture noisily, but he seemed to enjoy it greatly.
Ogen sat in silence, fascinated by the sight of her husband eating.Five or six heaped bowlfuls disappeared, and still there was no sign of hisstopping.
“Are you as hungry as all that? ” she asked,half annoyed, half amused.
“I didn’t have any afternoon break today,” he said,helping himself to yet another bowlful.
“Why? “
“When I got there after making that gate the bossgave me a dirty look and complained about me coming late―just at the busiest time, he said. So Iexplained about the gate, but he said that’s got nothing to do with me―the bastard! So I thought what the hell, andI went hard at it, and when they brought something to eat at around, two orthree I refused to look at it. The maid came and said, come and eat, it’s niceseaweed rolls today, but I just kept on with my work. So one way or another Iwasn’t at all keen on asking the boss for an advance, but I couldn’t very wellnot either, so as we were leaving I asked him to let me have five yen. Ha, ha,he says, so you want to slack and have an advance, do you? Some people’sskins are thick, I must say. You’llhave to make do with this, then. And he handed over two yen. Can I help it? “
Thus Isokichi disposed at one and the same time of the reasons forhis hunger and the fact that he had only got a two yen advance. And as hefinished talking, he put his chopsticks down at last.
Generally speaking, Isokichi was a man of few words and bad atexpressing himself, but just occasionally he would let go in fine style,throwing in some invective for good measure. It delighted Ogen enormously. Butthough she had been living with him for some three years now, she still could notmake up her mind whether he was a good worker or lazy. He would sometimes takethree or four days off from work, occasionally as much as ten days, but whenthe fancy took him, she knew, he would do work enough for three ordinary men. Soif only the fancy took him, she felt sure, they would be all right. She hadnever stopped to wonder at precisely what stage the fancy was going to takehim. She also had a reassuring feeling that in a crisis he could do bold,drastic things that other people would hesitate at. Sometimes, though, she wondered.Sometimes it occurred to her that he might be unexpectedly lacking inself-respect. This only happened, however, at times when they were leftcompletely destitute, and then the thought was so depressing that she tried ashard as possible to dispel it.
He was, in fact, a dark horse, and he always made the women in theOba household feel rather uneasy. Even Otoku showed a certain deference to Isokichi.Ogen was secretly rather proud of the fact, and when Otoku behaved in thisfashion, or when Okiyo used polite language to Isokichi, the joy welled upinside her.
The result was their perpetual poverty. Though their earningcapacity ought to have been as its heights, they had no real home of their own,but lived forever in sheds or the corners of old storehouses. Thus the wives ofthe other gardeners came to look on Ogen as a mystery―which was to say, a fool.
Isokichi’s meal over, Ogenrushed out with a basket and came back soon with some charcoal she had boughtloose. Then, as she lit the fire, she chattered to Isokichi of her exchangewith Otoku about the gate, and what the master had said when he saw it.Isokichi showed no sign of reaction at all.
Soon, Isokichi began yawning sleepily, so Ogen got out a single,grubby, wafer-thin quilt, spread another on top of it, and the two of them gotinto bed, and huddled close together. The cold night wind blew in throughcracks in the walls and up through the floor; they bunched themselves up assmall as possible, but still Isokichi’s back was half exposed to the air.
2
December came, and the cold rapidly became more intense. Frostneedles formed, there was ice on the puddles, and the sudden wintriness of Tokyo’ssuburbs startled those residents who, having fallen for the fashion forsuburban living, were spending their first winter there. Oba Shinzo, however, wasused to it, and every day went to work unperturbed in boots and a thickovercoat. Even so, the first Sunday of the month brought clear blue skies. Thesun sparkled, not a breeze stirred the air, and the unseasonal tempted Shinzo’sold mother and wife to go shopping downtown, taking little Rei and Otoku with themand leaving Shinzo and Okiyo to look after the house.
Any trip downtown from the suburbs―referred to by the normally stay-at-home women as “going to Tokyo”―required quite a flurry of preparation. So great was the commotioninvolved in getting the old lady, Shinzo’s wife and daughter, and even Otokuchanged and ready to go that their eventual departure left the house hushed andstill, with an almost deserted feeling.
Shinzo, still in his padded silk kimono done up with a narrow sash,lounged around in his own den, which was warm and sunny. Toward noon, however,he began to get bored, and emerging from his study was strolling up and downthe verandah when Okiyo called him from within the sliding doors:
“Shinzo! “
“What is it? “
“’What is it,’ indeed! ” she tittered.“There’s nothing for lunch! “
“Very well.”
“’Very well,’ he says! “She tittered again.
“There really isn’t anything much, you know. “
He slid open the door of the room where she was and found her busilyplying her needle.
“You’re hard at it, I see. “
“It’s a topcoat for Rei. Don’t you like the pattern?”
He made no reply but gazed about the room.
“I wonder you don’t do your sewing in a roomthat gets more sun. Why, you haven’t even got a brazier.”
“It’s not enough to make myfingers numb yet. Besides, it’s officially decided we’re to economize thisseason. “
“Economize with what? “
“Charcoal. “
“Charcoal’s gone up, admittedly, but surelynot enough for us to start cutting down on it all of a sudden?”
Shinzo, who dissociated himself completely from everyday householdaffairs, was quite ignorant of such matters.
“Why, but Shinzo, we spent a good deal more oncharcoal than on rice in November alone, and the three months when we need mostcharcoal―December, Januaryand February―are still tocome. So it will be difficult if we don’t economize all we can. Otoku moans allday long about the way we use charcoal and the price of it, and I don’t wonder it.”
“But what’s the good if we cut down on charcoaland then catch colds or something? “
“I hardly think that’s very likely.”
“At any rate, it’s nice and warm today, isn’tit? Even mother shouldn’t feel the cold today.” He stretched and yawned. “What’ s the time? “
“It’s nearly twelve already. Shall I getlunch? ” “No I’m not atall hungry yet. I’ts funny―at the office, I can’t wait to get at my lunch-box…”
He went out and peered in turn into all the rooms from the backparlor to the maid’s room. In the maid’s room, which he had never been inbefore, he found a window left about two feet open. He poked his head out idly,only to find himself gazing straight into the face of Ogen from next door, who hadlooked up instinctively at the same moment.
Her face crimsoned, and in her confusion she barely managed tofalter out:
“Just look what fine-quality charcoal you use inyour house. “
She produced a piece of cut charcoal which she was holding in herhand. Beneath the window the bales of charcoal lay, already undone at the top; Ogencould not help passing near them on her way from the gate to the well.
Shinzo, also somewhat embarrassed, searched for a reply.
“We men know nothing of charcoal, ” he said. Heflashed her a smile and promptly drew his head in again.
He went straight back to his den and pondered over Ogen’s behavior.But it was difficult to reach any verdict. The most obvious theory was that shehad been stealing the charcoal, but he could not be completely convinced ofthis. She might really just have been looking at it. She might have picked it up to look at it as she was passing, thenblushed for no particular reason at being so unexpectedly observed from above.It was possible, at least. Being disposed to accept this latter theory if atall feasible, Shinzo eventually made up his mind that it was so, and determinednot to mention the matter to anybody.
It occurred to him that if, by any chance, she had in fact beenstealing it would only make matters worse not to act. But he told himself thatshe was most unlikely to persist in her wrongdoing once she had been seen atit, and this persuaded him all the more strongly that he should keep the matterto himself.
Either way, he reflected, it had not been a wise policy to let thegardener make his bamboo gate at that spot.
Between three and half past the shopping expedition came troopingback home, and promptly assembled in the living room for a volublerecapitulation of the day’s experiences. Not only Okiyo, but Shinzo himselfwere dragged out to listen and provide suitable interjections of interest andwonder. Little Rei had embarrassed them by insisting they buy her a large dollat the emporium at Shimbashi…a drunk had made a nuisance of himself on thetrain … Shinzo’s wife had bought him a finest-quality imported undershirt ata bargain price because he felt the cold so . . . when one went to town, one alwaysended up spending more than one intended … and so on and so on, indefinitely.The people doing the talking, in fact, seemed to it all much more interestingthan the listeners.
When a lull came in the chatter, Otoku got up as though she hadsuddenly remembered something, and, going out of the kitchen door, came backafter a while round-eyed and with an unwontedly serious expression.
“Well did you ever! ” she exclaimed in asubdued voice, gazing round goggle-eyed at the others. Sensing that somethinghad happened, they gazed back at her.
“Well, did you ever! ” she repeated. “Okiyo, you haven’t taken any of the charcoalfrom outside today, have you? “
“No, I only used what was in the box. “
“Then I was right! I’ve been telling myselffor some time there was something funny about the way the charcoal was goingdown. Admitted the charcoal man cheats with by raising the bottom, that stillwouldn’t account for it going as fast as this, I told himself. So having my ownidea, I had a little peep into Ogen’s house through a hole in the shoji whileshe was out yesterday. And what do you think? ” She dropped her voice stillfurther. “There were a coupleof pieces of top-grade hard charcoal, all nicely banked up with ash, in thatbattered old brazier of theirs! I felt sure when I saw it, and thought of speakingto the old lady about it. But then I thought I’d set a trap first, just to makesure myself. And so I did today! ” She smirked at them.
“What sort of trap? ” Okiyo asked with a worriedair.
“I made a mark on each of the top pieces ofcharcoal before I went out today. And what do you think? When I looked justnow, four pieces of the top-grade charcoal had clean disappeared! And two bigpieces of soft charcoal I’d put out on top with marks on them had gone too! “
“Oh dear, how dreadful! ” exclaimed Okiyo, scandalized.Shinzo’s old mother and his wife exchanged glances in silence. “Well, this is it,” thought Shinzo, but hestill decided to postpone telling what he had seen today. In fact, he did not havethe heart to do so.
“So now we know who the charcoal thief is, “saidOtoku.“What had webetter do? ” The question sounded rather flat. She had expected astonishmentand a storm of debate, and the lack of vocal response from the master andeverybody, in fact, except Okiyo had somewhat taken the wind out of her sails.
“Do? ” countered Okiyo after a short silence.
“About what? “
“The charcoal, of course, ” said Otoku ratherimpatiently. “If we leave itas it is, we shall just go on losing it for ever. “
“How would it be under the kitchen verandah? “asked Shinzo. Since he had resolved not to disclose what he had seen, he had tomake some suggestion, although he knew that even if they took no action at all.Ogen was not going to steal again in a hurry.
“It’s full up, ” declared Otoku, dismissingthe suggestion summarily.
“I see, “said Shinzo, and lapsed into silenceagain.
“Then how would this be? ” proposed Shinzo’s wife.“We could take up the floor of the closet inOtoku’s room and put the charcoal there for the time being at least. And wecould clear out the closet in the middle room to put Otoku’s things in.”
“Let’s do that, then, ” agreed Otoku promptly.
“It’s taking advantage of you rather . . “said Shinzo’s wife to Otoku.
“Not all; in fact, I’d prefer it if I can putmy things in the closet in the middle room. “
“Well, that’s that, then,’ said the old lady.“But this kind of thing wouldn’t have happenedin the first place if only Shinzo had have a shed made without shilly-shallyingwhen he was asked. There’d be no trouble if only there were a shed…” Her long silence, it seemed, was only brokenin order to complain about the shed again. Shinzo smiled and scratched his headembarrassedly.
“No, the real trouble is the bamboo gate, you know,” said Otoku.“That’s why I saidmaking a gate there was like making a way in for a thief. Though what’shappened in fact is that the thief has made his own way in.” Withoutrealizing it, she had let her voice rise in pitch.
“Quietly, quietly! ” said the old lady. “People will hear if you talk as loudly asthat. I didn’t want to make a gate there either, but now it’s done it can’t beundone in a hurry. If we blocked it up in too much haste it would only makerelations awkward. The gardener himself is sure to get tired of that little shedof a place in the end and move out or do something. We’ll block it up then; in themeantime, we’ll keep quiet and pretend to know nothing. You, Otoku too, youmustn’t mention the charcoal to Ogen under any circumstances. We didn’tactually see her stealing it, and after all we should only do ourselves adisservice by making people of that kind resentful through making a fuss over alittle bit of charcoal. Really. ” The old lady was quite preoccupied expoundingher own private fears.
“Yes, that’s really true, ” said Okiyo,echoing the old lady’s anxiety. “You always tend to make insinuations, Otoku, but you’d better nottry it with Ogen. She’ll take you up on it and then anything may happen. There’ssomething about her husband Isokichi that makes me nervous. He’s a queer fish.Just the kind of man who’d fly at you without caring about the consequences. “The old lady had not mentioned Isokichi by name, but that, of course, was whatshe had had in mind.
“Come now, he’s only a man like any other, “saidShinzo, getting up.“Even so, it’sbest not to get mixed up with him. “
He went off to his study and, the charcoal question having beensettled for the moment, Otoku and Okiyo hastily set about preparing the eveningmeal.
Otoku was secretly eager to see what sort of face Ogen would put onthings, but was puzzled when she failed to put in her usual appearance at duskto draw water at the well.
About an hour after sunset, Isokichi came to draw the water himself.
3
Although she had been seen by Shinzo, Ogen believed she had passedthings off successfully. She had put some soft charcoal in the sleeve of her kimono,wrapped up some of the fine-quality charcoal in her apron, holding it in placewith her left hand, and had been about to take one more piece when Shinzo had looked down from the window.
But the master was good-natured andunsuspicious by nature, and she doubted whether he had realized anything wasamiss. Nevertheless, as dusk approached she could not bring herself to go todraw water as usual.
So she went to bed, with the quilt up over head, before Isokichi gothome from work. But though she lay down, she could not sleep. Thin though the grubbyquilts were, at night she and Isokichi kept the cold out with the warmth of eachother’s bodies, but alone the bed was hard as a board, refusing to fit into herbody, and she felt twice as cold as she had done up. She started to shiver, soshe curled herself into a ball, bringing her legs up as close to her body aspossible, till finally she scarcely looked like a human being asleep at all.
Thinking things over, she began to feel uncomfortable. She was usedto poverty, but not to thieving. Admittedly, the value of the charcoal she hadbeen pilfering during the past few days was slight, but this was the first timeshe had, when nobody was looking, unmistakably taken something belonging tosomebody else. The thought made her feel uneasy in a way she had never known before,an uneasiness mingled with both fear and shame.
Today’s incident floated up vividly in her mind’s eye. She could seethe master’s face clearly as he looked down at her, and the thought of how she hadheld out the charcoal in her hand to cover her embarrassment brought the bloodflaming to her cheeks.
“Whatever was I up to? ” she exclaimed in voluntarily.By progressive stages, she became more agitated. “What shall I do if it comes out? …How could it, though-the master’stoo kind-hearted….But you never know with kind-hearted people. ….Kind-heartedpeople are stupid.…. ” Gradually, the solitary exchange grew more worked up.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid! ” she cried again.Then she snorted defiantly and added, as a kind of after thought. “As if they could find out, anyway. “
She put her head out from under the quilt. The sun had set and themoon was shining on the paper of the sliding door at the entrance. But she madeno move to get up and light the lamp, drawing her head in immediately andcurling up into a ball again. She was still there when Isokichi came home.
On being told that she had gone to bed with a splitting headache, hehimself placidly lit the lamp, put more charcoal in the brazier under thekettle, which was getting cold, and went to draw water. While the water wasboiling he sat puffing at a fill of tobacco in his miniature pipe.
“What sort of pain? “he asked.
Getting no reply, he stared a while at the round hump in the quilt.
“What sort of pain, I said? “
Still there was no reply, and he fell silent. Soon the water boiled,so he poured it, as usual, straight onto the stone-cold rice, and beganmunching at the crisp pickled radish as though it were a long-awaited feast.
The sound of Ogen sobbing came from under the quilts, but the noiseof crunching pickle and rice being swallowed, and his total absorption in thefood before him prevented Isokichi from hearing it, and by the time he hadfinished eating the sobbing had stopped.
He began tapping on the edge of the brazier; the quilts began toheave, and soon Ogen was sitting by the brazier, still half wrapped in thebedclothes. Her kimono gaped open slightly at the front, showing her knees, butshe made no move to adjust it; her face, he noticed, was suffused with bloodand her eyes moist with tears. She was sobbing steadily.
“What’s up, I asked you―tell me! ” he said, but, as was his nature,he showed no sign of surprise or alarm.
“Isokichi, I’m thoroughly fed up, ” she began, her voice tearful. “I’ve been having with you for three yearsnow, and it’s been a hand-to-mouth kind of existence. Not a single day when lifewas really worthwhile. It’s not that I want an easy life, but this is too mucheven for me. Look at us, we’re little better than beggars! Are we? “
Isokichi made no reply.
“All we’re doing is eating to keep alive.People hardly ever actually starve, that means everybody at least eats enoughto keep alive. I feel that’s just notenough for a human being. ” She wiped the tears with the sleeve of her kimono. “You’ve got a trade like other people, haven’tyou? And there are only two of us to support, aren’t there? But what happens―the same poverty, day in day out, and it’snot just poverty at that. We’ve never once lived in a decent house. Always thiskind of shed or―”
“Do stop your endless chatter, woman! “
He banged the ash out of his pipe roughly against the brazier, stillavoiding facing her directly.
“Go on, get angry if you want to, “she said, growingexcited.“Tonight foronce I’m going to have my say, whatever happens. “
“Nobody likes being poor. “
“Then why do you always have at least ten daysoff every month? You don’t drink and you don’t have other amusements outsidethe house. If only you went to work properly we shouldn’t be poor like this. “
He was silent, gazing into the ash in the brazier.
“If only you’d got more go in you, we shouldn’tbe stuck as we are, not able to buy even a decent bale of charcoal…”
She threw herself down on the quilts and began to cry. Suddenly,Isokichi got up, stepped down into the unfloored entrance, thrust his feet intoa pair of straw sandals, and darted out of the house. It was a clear moonlitnight with no breeze, but a cold that chilled to the marrow. Isokichi hurriedout to the new road and along it half a mile or so, to call on his friend Kinji.He stayed playing chess with Kinji till ten-thirty, then, as he was leaving, askedhim for the loan of one yen. Kinji refused: tomorrow, yes, but tonight he waswithout a sen.
There was a charcoal shop on the way home. It sold sake,firewood, and charcoal by the bale. The Oba’s got their firewood and charcoalhere, and here Ogen came to buy charcoal too. The shops in these newlydeveloped suburbs shut early, and this one was already closed. He loitered fora while in front of it, then suddenly hoisted on to his shoulder one of thebales of a charcoal piled up in the front, and made off down a path into thepaddy fields by the side of the shop.
Hastening home, he set the bale down with a thud in the entrance.Ogen, who had cried herself to sleep, woke up at the sound but did not callout. It did not even occur to her to wonder what the noise had been. Isokichitoo said nothing, but crept into the bed behind her.
The next morning Ogen noticed the bale of charcoal.
“What’s this, Isokichi? ” she asked inastonishment.“This bale ofcharcoal. “
“I bought it, of course, ” he said frombeneath the quilt. He stayed there till the meal was ready.
“Where did you buy it? “
“Does it matter? “
“Can’t I ask? “
“A shop near Hatsu’s. “
“Why ever did you buy it so far away? ” She paused.“Oh, Isokichi―I suppose you wouldn’t pay the money for therice today? “
He got up.
“You kept harping on about you couldn’t buy charcoal,so I went to Kinji’s house last night to borrow some, but the bastard didn’thave any. So I went straight to Hatsu’s place, asked him to lend me a little tobuy charcoal with. If one bale’s enough, he said, all generosity, you can getit from our sake shop. So I went straight there and got it in his name.That should do you for four or five days, won’t it? “
“I should think so, ” said Ogen happily.She wanted to open the bale at once, but decided to put off the pleasure andbusied herself getting breakfast instead.
“Four or five days, indeed! ” she said as she worked.“That’ll last us ten in our house! “
The previous night she had worried a lot after Isokichi had rushedout of the house, and had concluded that if she was going to urge her husbandto have more go, it was no good lying around being depressed herself. She alsodecided that it would only look more suspicious if she did not show herself tothe neighbors.
So she sent Isokichi off with his packed lunch as usual. She hadbreakfast herself and cleared away, then took a bucket and opened the gate.
Okiyo and Otoku were out there. Seeing her, Okiyo said:
“Ogen, you’re looking dreadfully pale. Is somethingwrong? “
“I’ve had a bit of a cold since yesterday. . .”
“Oh dear! You must be careful, you know. “
Otoku was silent, save for a brief “Morning. “
Then, seeing Ogen staring pale and wide-eyed at the spot where thebales of charcoal had stood, she gave a smirk. It was not missed by Ogen, who glaredback at her. This Otoku took as evidence that they were already quarreling. Shewanted to give vent to some cutting sarcasm, but restrained herself because ofOkiyo’s presence. Just then a boy of eighteen or nineteen arrived through the gateto take orders for Masuya. Mausya was the name of the shop from which Isokichihad stolen the charcoal the previous night.
“Good morning, ladies, “said the errand-boy politely.Then, missing the bales of charcoal that had been standing there outside untilthe day before, he said,
“Hullo, where’ve you put the charcoal! “
“Oh, we’ve put it all inside, ” respondedOtoku promptly, as if she had been waiting for the chance. “It’s just not safe to leave it outside, you see.With the price of charcoal today it’s silly to let even a piece of it getstolen. “
She looked at Ogen. Okiyo glared at Otoku. Ogen, having drawn herwater, was already a few paces off.
“It really isn’t safe, “said the boy. “We finally had a bale stolen from our shoplast night. “
“How? ” asked Okiyo.
“Because we always leave it piled up outside unattended.”
“What did they take! ” pressed Otoku, her eyeson Ogen.
“Best-quality hard charcoal. “
Their words reached Ogen’s ears as she made her way unsteadily outthrough the gate, her teeth clenched.
Inside the entrance, she almost flung the bucket down and hastilyopened the bale.
“Best-quality hard charcoal! ” The exclamationcame involuntarily.
Otoku got a thorough scolding from both theold lady and Shinzo’s wife. When dusk came and Ogen had put in no appearance,Okiyo, feeling worried, went to see her, intending to cheer her up and enquireabout her cold at the same time. So still was everything inside the house thatshe called out: “Ogen, Ogen! “Therewas no reply, so
she timorously opened the sliding door.Ogen was hanging deadfrom a sash tied to the beam in the center of the entrance; she had used thecharcoal bale, it seemed, to stand on.
Two days later, the bamboo gate was taken down, and the hedgereverted to its previous state.
Another two months, and Isokichi had taken another woman of aboutthe same age as Ogen as his wife, and was living in the village of Shibuya. Butthe house they lived in was, again, little better than a pig-pen.
Translated by John Bester
Kunikida Doppo (1871-1908) was born in Choshi, a town of close on 100,000inhabitants in Chiba Prefecture, near Tokyo. In 1887 he entered the EnglishLanguage Department of Tokyo College. In1889 he was baptized as a Christian.Fond of reading Wordsworth and Carlyle, he wrote his own first work. Uncle Gen (Gen Oji) in 1897. In
1901, he published Musashino, and in1905 a collection of short stories.
In 1906 he founded his own publishing house, Dopposha, but it wentbankrupt the following year.
His work can be divided into three periods. The first, which can perhapsbe called his lyrical period, and lasted from 1894 to 1901, saw publication ofhis poems in a collection entitled Doppogin, and the stories The Unforgettables(Wasurerarenu Hitobito), Uncle Gen (Gen Oji ), Mist on the River (Kawakiri ),andMusashino..
The second period, from 1901 to 1904, saw the appearance of some ofhis most mature and characteristic works—works such as Beef and Potatoes (Gyuniku to Bareisho). In the contrasts he draws betweenideal and actuality, fate and the individual, social convention and real life,he reveals himself as the most intellectual of the romantics.
In the third and last period, from 1904 to 1908, the failure of hisbusiness ventures seems to have wrought a major change in his creativeactivity. Works such as Laughter andTears (Nakiwarai), Extra(Gogai), Death in Despair (Kyushi), and The Bamboo Gate, translated in this issue (Take no Kido) are more objective and more socially aware than theworks of his second period. Death inDespair (Kyushi) is perhaps one of the most important works produced by theJapanese naturalists.
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The short story appearing here, “The Bamboo Gate“(Take no Kido) was first published in the magazine Chuo Kouron in January, 1908. Itis a fine, unique work written in his final years as he was suffering frompulmonary tuberculosis and in financial hardship. In this story, he writesabout the daily life of poor people in an objective but warm-heartednaturalistic style, comparing the home lives of white-collar workers in theTokyo suburbs and artisan workers of the “bamboo gate.”
“The Bamboo Gate“(Take no Kido) in English translation was published in October 1964 by the PenClub of Japan. (From The Japan P.E.N. News No.13, 1-5, 1964)
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The Japan P.E.N.Club, in order to preserve them in an archive of modern Japanese culture, isdigitizing the English translations of literary works as they appeared in TheJapan P.E.N. News (irregular publication dates, July 1958-September 1971) andwill publish them at irregular dates online in the Digital Library -International Edition.
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